The Girl With The Blog | ✓

Twenty

A few days after the video went live, I found myself glued to my phone late at night, scrolling through the avalanche of comments. My room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of my bedside lamp illuminating the space. The feedback was overwhelmingly positive, and I was grateful for the support. But among the compliments and fashion tips, a recurring theme caught my eye: the comments about Colby and me.

My heart raced as I read through the comments again. Each one seemed to hint at something I wasn't sure how to address. The way Colby looked at me, the way I blushed around him—people were noticing things I had tried to ignore. My face flushed as I tried to convince myself it was all just in my head. I had never let myself dwell on these feelings, and I wasn't about to start now.

I closed my laptop with a frustrated sigh and turned over in bed, attempting to shut out the thoughts swirling in my mind. My heart kept replaying the moments from the video, the way Colby's eyes had lit up when he smiled at me, the warmth of his presence. I groaned into my pillow, trying to shake off the confusion.

Just as I was about to drift off, I heard a knock on my door. I jumped up, my heart pounding, and called out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Colby stepped inside, his silhouette framed by the hallway light. "Hey, Blair. You busy?"

I blinked at him, trying to muster a casual tone. "No, just... thinking. What's up?"

He walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. "You okay? You seem a little out of it."

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Yeah, just a lot on my mind. You know, with the video and everything."

Colby tilted his head, a concerned look in his eyes. "I saw the comments. Some people are really into the dynamic between us. I didn't think it was that noticeable."

I chuckled awkwardly, not quite meeting his gaze. "Yeah, it's weird. I didn't think much of it either, but apparently, people are really picking up on it."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking thoughtful. "Do you think it's because they see something we don't? Or is it just the way we interact? I mean, I'm just being me, you know?"

I nodded slowly, trying to gather my thoughts. "I think it's a mix of both. The way we interact... it's just us being ourselves. But maybe people are reading more into it because of how close we are."

Colby's eyes softened. "Blair, if there's something bothering you or if you're feeling uncomfortable, you can talk to me. I'm here for you."

His words were like a balm to my frazzled nerves. I appreciated his concern more than he knew. "Thanks, Colby. It's just... I've been thinking a lot about our friendship and how people perceive it. It's not that I mind, but it's a lot to process."

He gave me a reassuring smile. "We don't have to figure it all out right now. Let's just take it one step at a time. We're best friends, and that's what matters most."

I smiled back, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. "Yeah, you're right. We've been through a lot together, and that's what matters."

We sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Colby spoke up again. "So, do you want to talk about something else? Maybe distract ourselves from the internet for a bit?"

I laughed softly. "Sure, why not? We could watch a movie or something."

Colby grinned. "Sounds perfect. Let's do it."

As we settled down on the couch in the living room, I felt a renewed sense of calm. The confusion and self-doubt that had plagued me seemed to fade away, if only for a little while. Colby's presence was a comfort, and I was grateful for it.

We picked out a movie and snuggled under a blanket, the warmth and normalcy of the moment helping me to forget the chaos of the online world. For now, I was content to enjoy this peaceful evening with my best friend.

But as the movie played on, my mind started to wander. The way we were cuddled together felt intimate, like something a couple would do. I tried to dismiss the thought, but it lingered. I was acutely aware of Colby's warmth, the way his arm rested casually over my shoulders. Every so often, he would adjust his position, and I could feel the slight shift of his muscles, the soft brush of his clothing against my skin. It felt so comfortable, so right, but at the same time, it was confusing.

Why was I feeling this way? Was it the stress of the comments getting to me, or was there something more? I kept replaying our interactions from the video and the moments we'd shared, trying to pinpoint what had shifted.

The movie ended, but I remained lost in thought. Colby, oblivious to my inner turmoil, was chatting about the film and making casual comments. I nodded and smiled, but my mind was elsewhere, tangled in a web of confusion and burgeoning feelings.

I was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, there was more to my feelings for Colby than I had allowed myself to acknowledge. And that thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. For now, I decided to push those feelings aside and focus on the present, but the questions would linger in the back of my mind, unresolved and persistent.

As Colby headed back to his room, I remained on the couch, staring at the flickering TV screen. The movie was long over, but my thoughts were still racing. What did all of this mean for us? And how would I navigate these feelings without jeopardizing our friendship?